


The Saga of The Wolf-Kissed and Her Table-Maiden

by darktiger57



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: AC Valhalla, Cheating, Eventual Smut, F/F, Plot With Porn, Slow-ish burn, Smut, assassin's creed Valhalla - Freeform, at least until i get impatient, because it technically is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29113947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darktiger57/pseuds/darktiger57
Summary: a short fic of eivor betraying her brother
Relationships: Eivor/Randvi (Assassin's Creed)
Kudos: 79





	1. Fornburg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk what happened to my paragraph formatting it won't let me fix it so enjoy some not indented paragraphs in the last half of the chapter

Eivor follows close behind the group, watching with worried eyes as the young man is taken to Valka’s hut. Hytham, the damn fool, had jumped in and attempted to kill Kjotve. He had paid the price for it, Eivor had felt real fear stab through her heart as she watched the young man’s body slam into the stone cliffside. One of the raiders helping to carry Hytham stumbles, kicking back a rock. Eivor takes a quick step forward and catches Hytham’s legs before they hit the ground. She lets out a soft grunt and the various cuts on her body split open again and her already bruising muscle stretch and ripple. They set Hytham down gently onto the bear skin bed. Basim kneels by his apprentice, silent, but careful in probing Hytham’s body for any hidden injuries.

“What happened?” Randvi asks as she enters the hut. Eivor feels a warm smile come to her face, despite the wounded man in front of her. 

“The fool tried to attack Kjotve, during our fight.” Eivor turns to the red-head. “He was thrown limp into the cliff.”

“And how are you Eivor? Are you injured?” Randvi cocks a knowing eyebrow. 

“Only a few small scratches. The oath-breaker could barely get a hit on me.” Eivor puffs up her chest for a moment, before wincing slightly and relaxing her torso.

“Come on Eivor. Let them tend to Hytham. I will check your ‘scratches’.” Randvi takes Eivor’s hand and tugs her along. 

Eivor glances down at their hands, Randvi’s hand, kept soft from her work as Sigurd’s wife. Sigurd’s wife. Eivor’s mood sours at this thought. She runs her thumb across the back of Randvi’s hand, wondering what it might be like to touch more of her. She suddenly realizes they have stopped. She looks into Randvi’s probing eyes, her breath hitches as she sees the small smile sneaking its way onto Randvi’s lips. Eivor’s eyes sweep over the small expression hidden in her lips, her lips look soft, somehow untouched by the brisk air.

“Eivor…” Randvi murmurs. 

Eivor takes a step closer, her thumb still softly tracing a pattern into the back of Randvi’s hand. 

"Eivor you are bleeding!" Randvi exclaims, pulling back from her, now focused on the dark red stain slowly forming on her armor. "Go sit. Take off your armor. I will go get thread, needle, and anything else I may need."

"Put ale on that list, it will make this go faster." Eivor grunts as she lowers herself onto the bench. 

"Ale for the mighty drengr who cannot look a needle in the eye." Randvi teases, before rummaging about her and Sigurd's room. She surfaces with a needle, thread, and cloth. She exits the room and shortly returns with two tankards of ale and hot water. She kneels down next to Eivor and carefully lifts her tunic, assessing the damage beneath. “Luckily, this will not require the needle.” 

“Randvi… you do not have to help me with this. I can wash my own wounds.” Eivor takes in a sharp breath as Randvi presses a probing finger into the growing bruise on her side. “Fuck.”

“If such a gentle touch hurts you so much then you should not be tending to your own wounds.” Randvi looks up at her, concern in her eyes. 

“If you insist.” Eivor breathes out, her heart pounding in her ears, her voice unable to raise any higher without fear of cracking. Randvi’s eyes often locked Eivor’s attention, she found herself wishing she could spend hours exploring Randvi’s eyes with her own. With every touch from Randvi’s gentle hands Eivor can feel her heart ache for what she cannot have. Every gentle tap of the cloth sent shivers up her spine, the thoughts in her head very quickly turn to a side she does not wish to go to when in the actual presence of Randvi. A warmth spreads to the pit of her stomach, and she clenches her hands into fists to prevent herself from reaching out and pulling Randvi close. 

Randvi notices her fists clench and she pauses in her work. “Eivor, I cannot be more gentle. You will just have to hope Tekla’s brew is strong enough.”

Eivor lets out a sharp laugh. That wasn’t the issue, the issue was the thoughts betraying her with each gentle touch, how her mind wanders to the bed she was sat upon, what it might look like, feel like, pressing Randvi against those furs, how her hands would not be so gentle then. But she will not be telling Randvi that. Instead of stating the thoughts swirling in her brain, she takes a deep drink from the tankard, relishing in the sweet honey taste of Tekla’s famous ale. 

Randvi quirks an eyebrow before getting back to work, carefully cleaning and wrapping each cut, her arms practically encircling Eivor with each wrap. Each time she wraps her arms around she seems to linger moments longer than needed. Eivor cannot tell if this is just her mind betraying her with wishful thinking, or if Randvi too feels the warmth that Eivor feels simply from her presence. 

Eivor stiffens as Randvi seems almost too close to be tending to wounds, her fingers no longer carefully wrapping, but tracing the scars on her skin from battle past. She shivers as Randvi seems to unconsciously lean in, her breath tickling her bare side. 

“I have finished Eivor. Please do not do anything too strenuous as you heal. Your cuts were not bad, but I fear the bruising on your sides may point to a harsher injury. If you find yourself without breath please go see Valka, or one of the other healers in Fornburg.” Randvi stands, and offers a hand to Eivor to help her up. 

As Eivor takes her hand her mind drifts to how often her breath stops simply from the things Randvi does, whether it’s a teasing joke, a gentle smile, or an accidental touch. Randvi has her breath, her touch, her heart. 

“Eivor, what is on your mind?” Randvi looks concerned, as Eivor swims deep in her own thoughts. 

“The day I visited Valka, it was not just for feelings, I also had a vision when I touched my fathers axe.” Eivor looks down at their hands, still connected. 

“If you are comfortable, might I ask what Valka said?” Randvi whispers, inching closer to Eivor.

“It is fated that I will betray Sigurd.” Eivor whispers, turning her gaze to Randvi’s own intense eyes. 

“She must’ve been wrong, he is your brother, you would never betray him.” 

“That is what I told her. I would never willingly betray him. We are bound.” Eivor’s mind whispers the unspoken truth behind the sentence. She could not control the thoughts her mind had around Randvi. In a way she has already betrayed Sigurd.

The door swings open and both women leap apart, as if suddenly burnt by their contact. Sunniva steps in, if she had noticed anything she says nothing. 

“Hytham will live. He will be recovering for quite some time, and his days of fighting are likely already behind him, but he will live.” 

“Thank you Sunniva.” Eivor nods. “Thank you for your help Randvi.” Eivor follows Sunniva and the two leave. 

As Eivor walks out she struggles to resist turning to look back at Randvi, and fails, taking a small glance behind her. Randvi is watching her go, a strange look on her face, one Eivor has not seen before. Upon seeing Eivor look back, she quickly turns away and retreats back into her home. Eivor sighs, soft enough to be out of reach of Sunniva’s ears. She may fight fate, but it grows harder with each passing glance to not betray her brother. 


	2. Grantebridgescire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again ao3 hates my paragraphs and refuses to indent them, thats fine, formatting sucks anyway.

“The winds call me back to Randvi. I should tell her the good news.” Eivor whispers to herself, a soft smile on her face as she looks out across the river. Grantebridgescire was now an ally. EIvor herself had forged a deep friendship with the jarlskona, Soma, the second to Guthrum, who was out a viking. She had even gained a vikingr for her crew, Birna, for whom Eivor has a shared bond with as well, but for much different reasons. Both Eivor and Birna knew the pain of loving someone they could not have. The pain is evident on Brina’s face as they pull away from the shores of Grantebridge. Eivor looks away before her mind drifts to her own pains. 

Eivor spends most of the journey back to Ravensthorpe thinking of Randvi, hands down flat on the map table, strands hair loosened from her braid fallen over her face, her face carved into the hard lines of concentration, the smile that softens her face when she hears Eivor approach. Birna smiles to herself across the ship, she knows that look well, as it was one she wore often thinking of Soma. 

As they pull up to the dock, Eivor hops off her perch and stretches her arms up high, relishing no longer being at that awkward angle. She could just stand at the head of the ship like a normal person, but no, she had to look cool, no matter how many problems it was giving her back. 

Once they set foot upon the docks Eivor turns to Birna. And with a wide smile on her face she says, “Birna. Welcome to the Raven Clan’s nest.”

“Good to be here, Sunbeam! The people here seem like a mixed bag of nuts and seeds. I feel right at home.” Birna looks around in admiration at the settlement.

“You are at home.” Eivor sets a hand on Birna’s shoulder. “Settle in and get a feel for the place. We will be heading out soon enough.”

“Of course.” Birna smirks. “A quick drink and a friendly brawl,” Eivor rolls her eyes at this, “and I will be ready for the raids ahead.” She cocks her head. “And what are you doing right now Sunbeam?” 

“I must report to Randvi. Get to know your fellow crew, we will have time for that drink later.” Eivor nods, and heads off with wide steps, trying to hurry to the longhouse without appearing as though she is hurrying. Birna casts a knowing look over her as she goes. 

“Hey Eivor!” Reda calls out in greeting. 

“Hej.” Eivor nods at him. Her steps quicken the closer she gets to the longhouse. She steps into the warm hall, taking in the scent of ale, cooked meat, and the sweet smell, much more subtle than the rest, but still there. Eivor smiles, with all the time Randvi spends in her map room it is no wonder the longhouse is covered with her scent. Eivor looks to the map room as she enters. Randvi and Ceolburt, the son of King Ceolwolf II and a good hearted boy Eivor had met and taken under her wing in Ledechestrescire, are talking at the map table, both seem entirely focused on the map and their conversation. 

Eivor leans against a table in the hall, folds her arms and lets her mind wander. Randvi had taken a liking to Ceolburt as soon as he had arrived. She had listened to his stories of the battles against King Burgred, often told with an exaggeration of Eivor’s strength. The boy admired her, and seemed to have grown an admiration for Randvi as well. He took her lessons to heart, and would help fill in blanks in the clan’s knowledge of the kingdoms of England. Randvi spoke highly of the boy often. Eivor’s eyes drift to Randvi who was unfurling another map onto the table. Her hands carefully uncurl each end with such a gentle touch that Eivor has only seen while Randvi tends to the wounds Eivor tries to hide. Her hands slide over the surface of the map to push it down and Eivor feels a shiver go down her spine, her mind drifting to Randvi on top of her, hands pressing her down. 

She shakes her head and stands quickly from the table. Her heart is in her throat as she paces out of the longhouse. She can feel her heartbeat between her legs and needs it to stop. Her hand brushes into the mildly blunted axe at her belt. She pauses with her fingers hovering over it before turning towards Gunnar’s forge. It would be impossible to be lustful while watching the man work. 

She sets her axe down on the table in front of Gunnar. “I need it sharpened Gunnar.” 

“Hello Eivor it is a pleasure to see you no, no I am not busy, why do you ask?” Gunnar gives her a pointed look.

“Apologies Gunnar, we just arrived back from Grantebridgescire. Will you sharpen my axe?” Eivor sheepishly looks down. 

“Yes. Come, sit Eivor. Regale me with your tales of glory while I sharpen your axe.” Gunnar gestures to a bench nearby his forge. He wets the whetstone and sets to work.

“We are now allied with Soma Jarlskona of Grantebridgescire. They will come to us in our time of need.” EIvor sits.

“Anything else? The way you say Soma’s name makes me wonder, has she caught the eye of our mighty drengr?” Gunnar gives her a sly smirk. 

“No Gunnar. She has her people to lead.” Eivor furrows her brows and looks into the dirt, her heart whispering the true reason. 

“What else is there? You look as though the sun itself has gone out.” 

“My heart belongs to another Gunnar. Even if Soma had any interest I do not.”

“Ooh hoho. Someone has caught the fancy of our drengr after all!” Gunnar pulls the axe from the whetstone and runs a finger down the blade to check it. “When are you bringing her home?”

“I cannot Gunnar, for she is out of my reach, not mine to long for.” Eivor smiles sadly, and takes the axe from Gunnar’s hand. “Thank you Gunnar, for the axe and the talk, now I must go give my report.” 

“Now I feel lucky. The mighty Eivor spoke with me before Randvi? Now that is new.” Gunnar gives her a hearty clop on the shoulder. “The heart goes where it wants, all you can do is hope the fates go the same way.”

“Farewell friend.” Eivor smiles and walks slowly back to the longhouse. If it is fated that she would betray her brother, and if her heart cries out for this, why must her mind hold her back? Odin fought the fates, perhaps she can too, even if it pains her so she will not sacrifice her bond with her brother, and the friendship she had formed with Randvi. She clenches her jaw and steps back into the longhouse. Ceolburt and Randvi are still talking, but Randvi notices Eivr immediately this time. 

Randvi’s smile grows as her eyes make contact with Eivor’s gaze. She straightens from the table. “Welcome home Eivor. What news do you bring?” 

“We are now allied with Grantebridgescire, and have gained a new raider. Birna, who was the right hand to their jarlskona, Soma.” 

“I am afraid I must excuse myself. I am glad things went well.” Ceolburt bows away from the table and hurries out the door. 

“I trust you gave her a warm Raven Clan welcome?” Randvi leans onto to the table.

“I have.” 

“Good. Well done Eivor.” Randi removes the dagger from the table and slides a raven over the cut. 

They both fall silent as they look over the maps, notes, and documents, thinking of where next to send Eivor. Randvi crosses to the other side of the table, next to Eivor, and cocks her head slightly, peering at the letter in front of Eivor. Eivor can feel her skin start to warm, she struggles to maintain an even breathing pattern so as to not alert Randvi to her internal struggle. Her heart beats so loud in her chest she fears Randvi can hear it. It seems her trip to Gunnar hadn’t done nearly enough for her, as the heartbeat starts again between her legs. Randvi reaches for something, her arm brushing against Eivor’s, at this Eivor’s breath hitches and her skin tingles. Randvi’s fingers pause, hovering just above the thing she was going to grab, her whole body has stopped moving. 

“Randvi…” Eivor whispers. 

Randvi turns to her, conflict in her eyes. Eivor swallows the lump in her throat as the two inch closer. Eivor’s eyes dart down to her lips. Their noses touch, and Eivor can feel Randvi’s breath.

“Eivor…” Randvi tilts her head and their lips brush for a second. 

“EIVOR, RANDVI DANE RAIDERS FROM THE EAST!” Sunniva bursts in, too out of breath to notice what she had interrupted. 

Eivor draws her axes and runs from the room, heading out into the fray of battle. Randvi follows quickly on her heels. Right as she steps out of the door of the longhouse a raider swings down an axe towards Randvi. She ducks under and smashes her hammer into the stomach of the man as Eivor’s throwing axe thuds into his neck. Randvi pulls the axe out and tosses it underhanded to Eivor, gives her a quick nod and rushing off towards the rest of the raiders.

Eivor grins and follows suit, her axes cutting through Dane after Dane. She chops the head off of a woman trying to break into Yanli’s shop before turning and seeing Randvi chop through a man’s neck with an axe as she slams his head in the opposite direction with her hammer. A light spray of blood splatters onto her face and glistens in the afternoon sun. Randvi seems fully engrossed in the battle, as if living something she’d long thought she had lost. Eivor feels a swell of affection as she watches the woman cut and smash through the raiders. Randvi turns to her, her face suddenly covered in fear. 

“EIVOR!” She lunges forward, trying to reach her. 

Eivor turns just in time for a spear to jut past her face. She lets out a snarl, grabs the spear and rips the man forward. He stumbles to the ground. Eivor does a small hop up before bringing the full weight and strength of her body onto the man’s head, splattering it. She picks up the spear from where she had thrown it onto the ground. She hefts it in her hand for a moment before sending it sailing through another man’s chest. 

Eivor and Randvi both take chase to a fleeing raider, following him towards the woods. EIvor sends her throwing axe into his back. He stumbles forward, but keeps running. Eivor let’s out a roar and pushes herself forward even faster, slamming into the man’s back, knocking them both to the ground. As they land the axe pushes further into the man’s back, and he is dead before Eivor can even get up. 

Randvi skids to a stop and offers a hand to Eivor. Eivor is flushed and soaked in blood. Her veins throb with battle lust. Her whole body is alight. The hand she wraps around Randvi's seems to vibrate. Randvi pulls her up, but does not release her grip on Eivor's hand. The two stand there, out of breath, soaked in battle grime, and both staring intensely into the other’s eyes. 

Minutes could’ve passed, maybe even hours. Eivor has no idea, she is too enthralled by Randvi’s eyes, deep as the sea and just as bright. Her eyes trace Randvi’s face, memorizing, savouring everything about it. Her fingers intertwine with Randvi’s. The two grow ever closer as Eivor lifts Randvi’s hand, keeping their fingers interlocked. Her other hand drifts up and her fingers trace softly down Randvi’s palm onto her wrist. Randvi reaches up and cups Eivor’s face. Eivor closes her eyes and leans into the touch. Randvi’s thumb brushes across Eivor’s lower lip. Eivor lets out a soft sigh, her heart aching for what she cannot have, for what she is being taunted with. Her eyes crack open as Randvi's hand shifts more to the back of her head. Randvi is much closer now, their bodies nearly touching in every possible way. Their foreheads touch. 

Eivor brings her own hand to Randvi's face and traces her fingers softly along her jaw. Her fingers go under Randvi's chin and she tilts her face up slightly. Her eyes search those of the very still woman in front of her. Everything she wants to do with Randvi flashes rapidly in her mind, her fiery red hair spread out behind her, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth open to moan out her name. 

“EIVOR!” Dag’s harsh voice breaks through the thickened silence. “RANDVI!” The stomp of his boots approaches the two, who are now realizing just how compromising of a position they are in. 

“I-” Eivor pulls away. 

“There you are. We got a bastard alive when he tried to run.” 

“Good. Let’s see what we can get out of him.” Eivor breaks eye-contact with Randvi.

“Maybe he’ll tell us who sent him.” Randvi nods slowly, her eye-brows scrunched in thought. 

  
  


\---

“These Dane invaders, they came from East Anglia, is that right?” Eivor stares directly at the map, avoiding, as best she can, Randvi’s gaze.

“Yes.” Randvi pauses. “Eivor I-” 

“Please Randvi, we have work to do.” Eivor pleads, both to Randvi and to herself.

“Of course.” Randvi sighs. “The Dane invaders serve a man called Rued. He seems to be sowing discord among Saxons and friendly Danes alike.” 

“How?” 

“Years ago the Sons of Ragnar seeked to pacify the land. They appointed a steward named Finnr to find a suitable Saxon king.” Randvi frowns. At her silence Eivor glances up, Randvi’s eyes hold hers in place. Eivor looks away quickly. Randvi continues speaking, softer than before. “The kingdom has fallen into ruin, with no king and violent raiders ravaging what little peace remains. I suggest you make for East Anglia and find out what their steward is doing wrong.” 

Eivor straightens from the table. “I will make the trip east then. Speak to this Finnr myself.” 

“A good plan.” Randvi forces herself to nod. 

The two stand in an awkward silence for quite some time, both teetering on the edge, waiting for any sign that the other felt the same. For every time they had grown so dangerously close Eivor could not believe what was in Randvi’s eyes. The stories each glance told. 

Eventually Eivor mutters a goodbye and walks out the door, headed to East Anglia. 


	3. East Anglia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is folks  
> the mission  
> the one you all know and love  
> taken for granted

Eivor fiddles nervously with the fur lining of her bracer. East Anglia had taken nearly 2 weeks longer than her past missions, and her heart aches for home, for Randvi. Her patience has worn thin for Dag and his arrogance and lies on her journey and she is ready to not have to hear the man speak. Her eyes scan desperately for the river bend that marks the start of the borough. 

As they approach Eivor hears a horn bellow in the distance. They must have spotted the longship. The docks were sure to be full with her clan, wanting tales of glory, but her mind slips past them and to the longhouse, where Randvi would be waiting. They dock the ship and unload the spoils from East Anglia and the raid they did on their way back. Eivor pushes her way through the small gathering of people at the dock. Knud runs up to her, grinning ear to ear.

“Eivor! Eivor! Did you go on an adventure?” The young boy hops up and down, unable to contain his excitement. 

“I did little one, and once I have spoken to Randvi I will tell you the saga of King Oswald the Reborn.” Eivor gives him a small tousle of the hair before heading towards the longhouse. As she approaches she hears shouts echo from the hall.

“Push me any further Holger and I will make you eat that wretched hat of yours!” Rown, the stablemaster, shouts at Holger, who stands with his arms crossed, both of whom are standing in front of a very tired looking Randvi. 

“Rowan, Holger, why all this shouting?” Eivor’s voice echoes through the hall. Randvi’s head jerks, and her eyes make contact with Eivor’s. She seems relieved Eivor has returned, and even more relieved that she has interrupted the two men, but only for a moment it seems. 

The two gibber back and forth until Randvi pinches the bridge of her nose, lets out a great sigh and shouts, “SILENCE, BOTH OF YOU.” Eivor furrows her brow in concern, she had never seen Randvi so- angry. 

Rowan, unphased by Randvi’s outburst, continues. “Randvi I demand this matter be settled here and now.” 

Eivor steps onto the raised platform surrounding Sigurd’s throne. Before she can open her mouth to ask what is happening Randvi speaks.

“Eivor, thank Tyr.” Randvi smiles softly. 

“I heard shouting. Is something wrong?” Eivor furrows her brow, meaning the question both for the two squabbling men, and Randvi who seems heavy on the shoulders and deep in thought. 

“Holger robbed me! And I demand he be punished!” Rowan jabs his finger at the poet. 

“Ah! Robbed is such a pointed word. Does the deer rob the stream when she drinks? Does the cow rob a field as it crops on sweet grass?” A pointed look from Randvi quiets Holger before he starts on an endless poem with thousands of metaphors. 

“Eivor,” Randvi turns to her, pleading with her bloodshot eyes, the bags digging deep. Eivor’s heart hurts at the sight, her first thought only of Randvi, and how she could help make those bags lessen, and her shoulders lighten, “this matter requires sensitive judgement, will you…?”

Eivor gives a soft nod to Randvi, before she turns to Sigurd’s throne, still yet unwarmed by her brother’s ungrateful ass. Eivor squeezes her eyes shut, banishing the thoughts. “Of course.” She sits slowly onto the throne.

“Well now.” Dag emerges from the shadows, a sick smirk on his face. “There is no excuse too small, I see… nothing to keep you from coveting that seat, is there?” 

“In Sigurd’s absence, who has better claim to oversee these disputes?” Eivor sighs, her back tense, and her mind already tired from having to listen to Dag the entire journey back from East Anglia. 

“You might leave them to work it out. But that would mean letting go, would it not?” Dag turns and struts from the longhouse. 

Eivor sighs and turns to look at Randvi, only to find she has already found her way back into the map room. “Please start again, tell me what happened.” 

\---

As the two men walk out of the longhouse, Holger attempting to find some other way of paying Rowan, Eivor stands off the throne, not liking the way her body had enjoyed sitting in that chair. She turns to face the map-room. Randvi seemed unwell, perhaps she should ask about that before giving her report, or would it be more professional to give her the report first. Her duty to her brother, and her duty to her friend, which would win out? 

“Oh, hello Eivor.” Randvi mutters, exhaustedly. “That Holger, he’s quite a character.” She lets out a weak chuckle. Eivor’s concern only grows. 

“I don’t envy him. To see the world through such a muddy glass and live with such petty concerns. He hasn’t a care in the world.” Eivor’s eyes examine Randvi. 

“Let’s not walk too far with that idea. We- I need you right where you are.” Randvi’s eyes lower from Eivor’s intense gaze. “What of East Anglia?” 

“They are with us. Their King Oswald has pledged his loyalty to us.” Eivor steps closer. 

“Eivor King-Maker we shall call you soon.” Randvi eyes lighten for a moment, before fading again. “King Ceowulf has sent Ceolbert to Sciropscire, he is to be installed as eldorman there.” 

“Good for Ceolbert.” Eivor hesitates before taking Randvi’s hands in her own. “He should do well.” Randvi looks into Eivor’s eyes. “Considering all he has learned from you.” Eivor gives her a reassuring smile. Perhaps this is what has Randvi down. Perhaps she has been lonely, left alone in her map room. 

“I gave him only a taste,” Randvi pauses, her eyes darting to Eivor’s lips. “Of my knowledge. The rest he must figure out for himself.” Randvi looks down at their hands. “I must return to my work.” 

“Of course.” Eivor pulls her hands back and nods as she steps away from the table. 

“I believe Ceolbert left a note on the table for you.” Randvi says without looking up from her maps. 

Eivor crosses the room quickly, first picking up a note that seems to be a list of tasks Randvi has written down to be completed, that is not Ceolbert’s note. Her gaze turns to a barrel, upon which there is a scrap of parchment with hasty writing on it. Her hand reaches for it, and something in the back of her head whispers, ‘This isn’t Ceolbert’s letter.’ But that does not stop her hand. Her eyes can barely focus as she reads the words written. 

“It is becoming increasingly difficult to look across the alliance table at Eivor and not think of what could be-” It is Randvi’s handwriting. Eivor drops the note quickly, her heart racing about what was on that paper. There were more words but she could not bear to read further. This was not a note meant for her, this was something only Randvi was meant to see. She turns on her heel, and walks to the table on the other side of the room. She picks up Ceolbert’s note, but is unable to focus as her mind keeps going back to Randvi’s scribbled revelation. She should not have disrespected her privacy like that. She puts the note down and grips the table. 

“Eivor?” Randvi has looked up from her maps, her eyes now staring at the drengr, worry etched across her brow at the woman who seems to be attempting to crush the table to dust. 

“Randvi, are you well?” Eivor turns to her. “Are you alright?” 

“What do you mean?” Randvi seems taken aback. 

“You seem distant.” Eivor steps forward. 

“I- I am fine. Only a little tired, but well enough.” She motions to the map and swallows. “Shall we look at the map?” 

Eivor shakes her head. “Not until you tell me what is wrong.” Another step. 

“Oh I think I have.” Randvi deflates and leans back onto the table. “I feel somewhat trapped. In this room. In this settlement” She pauses, her eyes searching Eivor’s. “In this life.” 

“I cannot help you with your life, just now.” Eivor returns Randvi’s gaze, a promise filling her eyes. “But I can get you out of this room. What do you say?” She makes a show of offering her hand. 

“I don’t know. There is much work to be done.” Randvi chews her lip in thought. 

“Stop.” Eivor takes Randvi’s hands in her, fully enveloping them. “Forget about alliances and responsibility for a few hours.” She pauses, thinking, before her eyes light up. “We could take a ride. To Grantebridge, or somewhere nearby. For a change of pace.” She smiles softly as she slowly traces her thumb on the back of Randvi’s hand. 

“That sounds lovely.” Randvi leans into Eivor, and closes her eyes. “And too far to consider just now.” She sighs and opens her eyes. She leans back and smiles up at Eivor. “But thank you Eivor. Maybe another time.” 

Eivor shakes her head. “Randvi.” She lowers her voice. “Take a break. Let us make for Grantebridge and get you out of this musty room.” 

“But-” 

“You just said you are tired of all of this. Stretch your legs, fill your lungs.” Eivor releases Randvi’s hands and motions her towards the door. "Your maps will not change."

“You’re right.” Randvi sighs, her hands remaining in the air where Eivor had let go for just a moment longer, before she turns to the door. “Lead the way Eivor.” 

“Follow me.” Eivor grins and quickly jogs out of the room, looking back to make sure Randvi was following her. She leads her down to the river to a small fishing boat. “We will not take the longship today. This trip is for us. Just you and me.” 

“Would it not be easier to go by horseback then?” 

“Yes, but I wish to show you the sights along the river. Things you do not get to see when heading a longship. Is that a problem?” Eivor offers a hand to Randvi as she steps onto the small fishing boat.

“Not at all. As long as I get some air and sun I will be fine. I spend too much of my day in the longhouse.” Randvi settles at the front of the boat, looking out upon the river. She pulls her hair free and it spreads like fire across her back.

“We have to cross the river at some point. Unless you have a better way? I would love to hear it.” Eivor grabs the setting pole and pushes off the shore. Rather than watch the same sights she has seen so often Eivor’s gaze is fixed upon the woman she had never seen so clearly before. 

“Is swimming not an option?” Randvi smirks over her shoulder at Eivor, whose heart catches in her throat. 

“Swimming? I don’t know...” Eivor scrunches her eyebrows before realizing the smirk on Randvi’s face, and her watchful gaze. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not opposed to more traditional methods.” Randvi turns back out to face the water. “But this is quite lovely.” 

The two travel in silence for a time. Eivor watches Randvi as she looks around at what she hasn’t seen of England from her maps. “Over there is where Petra and I accidentally ingested mushrooms that made us see dreams.” 

“You what?” Randvi laughs. A nice warm laugh. Something Eivor hasn’t heard her do in a long time, not since leaving Norway. 

“Wallace had not yet returned from trading, so Petra came to me. We went searching for her brother, and came across his camp, where he had been cooking these mushrooms. They filled the room with such a stench. We saw visions of a white stag leading us to Wallace. I slaughtered many chickens, my mind telling me they were Jotun.” 

“Chickens?” Randvi giggles. 

“Fearsome chickens.” Eivor says as seriously as possible, a smile sneaking in at the edges.

“It really is lovely here. I have not been this far east of the settlement. Isn’t that awful?” Randvi lays back on the boat. 

“You think safety ‘awful’?” Eivor asks, curious why she seemed so troubled by Randvi being kept on such a tight rope. Sigurd had her trapped here while he went off pursuing glory when he should be caring for his clan. Eivor’s knuckles whiten on the setting pole. 

“To live ones life in so small a pen, and to hear stories from you and my scouts without ever venturing further.” Randvi suddenly sits up and laughs. “Gods, do you smell that? The earth and the air. It is so good to be out here.” 

Eivor takes a deep breath, noticing Randvi’s scent on the wind more than anything else. “Yes, it is quite beautiful.” Eivor leans her head against her hands as she pauses in pushing the boat. Randvi looks back for a moment, their eyes connect and Eivor smiles softly. She straightens and begins pushing the boat again. 

“Eivor, there.” Randvi points towards ruins they were drifting past. “What is that?” 

“This is where the Summer Army retreated when Grantebridge was lost.” Eivor smiles. “They seem to have settled the city in full now.” The imposing walls of Grantebride are soon visible. 

“I know this land so well by its map, but to see it in person brings it to stunning life.” Randvi breathes out, her hand reaching out into the wind. “A Roman marvel. I will not soon forget it.” 

Eivor’s heart aches as she thinks of Randvi having to go back to the map room after this. To have her longing for the adventure found on the back of a horse, or on a longship crushed and smothered as she does her duties. Duties forced upon her by a husband who would not even warm her bed. Eivor shakes her head. Now is not the time for such thoughts. Eivor pushes the boat onto the shore just outside the main gates of Grantebridge. She steps off the boat and offers a hand to Randvi. 

“And here we are.” Eivor turns to face the gates. “Welcome to Grantebridge. We should make our way to the longhouse.” Eivor tugs Randvi along, through the gates. 

“It’s bigger than I imagined.” Randvi stops as she looks around the city. It has recovered well from the several sieges it had been through the past year. “Rustic, woody, beautiful. And everything seems quite new.” 

“Under Soma’s guidance, the Summer Army built this town up from a small village.” Eivor cocks her head slightly as she notices a small frown form on Randvi’s face at the mention of Soma. “They wanted a hub for trade near Lundon and a launching point into Wessex.”

“It is impressive. There are some interesting architectural ideas here too.” Randvi slides her hand back into Eivor’s. 

“Come.” Eivor tugs her into the longhouse. 

“Well, well, well! Is that Eivor I see?” Magni’s voice booms over the buzz of the longhouse. 

“It is good to see you again. This is Randvi, a dear-” Eivor pauses for a moment. “friend and a sturdy fighter. 

“Well met Randvi. Eivor seems to have a preference for befriending lovely women.” Magni winks at the two. 

A small blush blooms on Eivor’s face that only worsens when Randvi replies. 

“You know, I noticed the same thing.” Randvi smirks at Eivor. 

“I expected more people about Magni. Has something happened?” Eivor asks.

And so Magni tells the two how Soma has taken their best fighters to open a trade route with Oxeneforda, but in her absence a pack of bandits have set up camp nearby, keeping traders away. They even stole Magni’s horse.

Before Eivor can say anything, Randvi volunteers them to clear the bandit camp. Soon they are off. 

As they leave the longhouse Eivor looks to Randvi. “You volunteered us for a fight Randvi. Is that your idea of a pleasant ride through the country?” 

“It must be. I surprised even myself.” Randvi muses. 

“Away from your table for a day and already you are lusting for blood.” Eivor laughs, and tries to force the other images out that come to mind when she thinks of Randvi lusting. 

“A feeling you must know well, no?” Randvi bumps playfully into Eivor’s shoulder, lingering just a moment too long. “I have always wanted to experience the world as you do, and now I will.” Randvi smirks at Eivor. “Unless you had a more interesting day planned for us?” 

Eivor’s heart jumps and her blush returns. “We will help clear these bandits, but do not be rash when we find them. The Raven Clan…” Eivor pauses. “The Raven Clan needs your steady hand.” 

“Yes indeed my lord.” Randvi jokingly snaps to attention. “ I shall follow your orders to the letter.” 

“If I did not know any better I would say you are teasing me.” Eivor chokes out, struggling to ignore the pooling heat in her stomach at Randvi’s words. 

“O certainly not, Eivor Wolf-Kissed, iron-fisted drengr.” Randvi playfully grins. Eivor struggles to not push her against a tree and let her know just what her words were doing to her. “I would never tease one with such…” Randvi steps in front of her. “Commanding authority.” 

\---

Eivor gazes out into the horizon, with the smouldering bandit camp behind her. She and Randvi had made quick work of it. Her mind drifts to the look in Randvi’s eyes when she had stepped in front of her earlier. 

“Must you brood so sternly? I fear for the horizon with the looks you give.” Randvi chirps out gleefully as she wipes the blood from her hammer and axe. 

“It is what I do.” Eivor grins down at Randvi, her eyes drifting to the small splatter of blood that has landed on Randvi’s lip. She reaches up and gently wipes it off, leaving a small smear. Her thumb lingers on Randvi’s lip. 

“Eivor…” Randvi inches closer to her. They are barely a hairsbreadth apart when Ranvi reaches up and smears blood onto Eivor’s nose. 

“Randvi!” Eivor gasps, wiping at her nose. 

“Come. Let’s deliver Magni his horse.” 

Somehow along the ride Randvi had roped Eivor into drinks in Grantebridge. And so there they were, both with drinking horns in hand, ready to begin drinking. Randvi has a smug grin on her face, as if no matter the outcome of this competition she would be the victor. 

Eivor dips her horn in the tank, the two tap in cheers, and the chugging begins. Randvi takes a quick start, ending up an entire horn ahead of Eivor, but Eivor catches up soon enough as Randvi seems distracted by something. By the end of their three horns Eivor manages to beat Randvi by a single mouthful. Both women are red-faced and laughing from their close battle. 

“There you see.” Eivor waggles a finger at Randvi. “Should not have tried to out drink me, Randvi.” She puffs out her chest. “It cannot be done.” 

“Hmm.” Randvi leans forward. “Strange. I see your lips moving so rapidly, yet all I hear is ‘Thank you Randvi.’” A smirk dances along her lips. 

“Are you satisfied then? My head is ringing like a bell.” Eivor closes one eye in an attempt to clear the muddied veil. 

“More than satisfied.” Randvi hums. “Now come, we’ll ride this off and take in the air as we head home.” Eivor moves for the door, but Randvi stops her with a gentle hand. “After just one more stop.” She grins. 

“Randvi.” Eivor groans, but with a smile still firm on her lips. 

“It’s a sunken tower, near a waterfall, close to home. We can stop for a look. And then you are free of me.” Randvi’s smile fades for a moment at those words. “It’s near the highest point of a hill, just south of the settlement. Easy to spot I’m sure.” She teases. 

“One last stop then.” Eivor frowns. She hopes Randvi does not think that her reluctance for another stop means she does not wish to spend time with her. Eivor doesn’t remember a day that has filled her heart as much as this day. 

“I know it may not show Eivor, but I am terribly excited.” Randvi smiles softly, her eyes almost sad. While her eyes may show conflict the rest of her practically vibrates with excitement. 

“O, it shows.” Eivor chuckles. 

The two hop onto Eivor’s horse, which somehow seemed to know where Eivor was and that she needed a ride. As they ride out of town Eivor lets out a small laugh. 

“I think you may have punctured poor Magni’s heart back there.” 

“Not the first, won’t be the last.” Randvi’s mead warmed breath tickles Eivor’s ear as she whispers. 

“I name you Randvi, Slayer of Bandits, Breaker of Hearts.” Eivor’s smile drops away. Perhaps Randvi has figured out Eivor’s feelings for her. Perhaps that was a warning. She is married to Sigurd afterall. It would be a betrayal of the worst kind. Breaker of Hearts. Keeper of hers. 

“I will sound it with pride.” Randvi shivers and wraps her arms tightly around Eivor.

The two fall silent, and Eivor feels herself relax as Randvi’s warmth soaks into her. Her touch had her heart racing, and her face red, yet was still so comforting. 

“I was wondering something.” Randvi lifts her head up. “You and Soma, was there something more to your bond?” Randvi asks as if she does not truly wish to know the answer. “You spoke of her with a particular shine in your eyes.” 

“We grew very close, very quickly. Is that what you mean?” Eivor closes her eyes, knowing full well the question Randvi is asking. It is silent for a time, and Eivor considers speaking again.

“No, I mean…” Randvi lets out a frustrated sigh. “Did something happen between you two?” 

“What sort of question is that?” Eivor hoarsely whispers out, barely loud enough for Randvi to hear. 

“An innocent one. Innocent as a newborn babe.” Randvi slides her arms back from around Eivor. Both women shiver, both at the movement, and at the sudden lack of warmth. 

“Nothing happened between us.” Eivor closes her eyes. “That is my answer.” Her mind is racing. Why would Randvi ask such a question? Must she torment her so? 

“Hmm.” Randvi hums into her ear, sending shivers down Eivor’s spine. “I find that disappointing. If I were you I would’ve tested the waters.” The sultry tone of Randvi’s voice has Eivor’s breath ragged. “Eivor, entangled by a hardy jarlskona as she leads her army to victory and prosperity.” Each whispered word sends heat rushing to both Eivor’s face, and between her legs. “A rather appealing match.” 

“Soma had her people to worry about.”

“And you?” 

Eivor cannot answer her question. Randvi seems to take her silence as an answer anyway. 

“Look there.” Randvi points to a ruined tower at the base of a waterfall. “That must be the tower. Take the bridge.” Randvi dismounts the horse. “Just as beautiful as Sunniva’s stories tell. Can you imagine how it looked when it was first built?” 

Eivor dismounts her horse and stands next to Randvi, not looking at the tower but rather at Randvi. Eivor watches as the excitement and wonder dance across Randvi’s face. The burden that had rested upon her shoulders has lifted for now, giving Randvi a younger look. Eivor feels a pang of longing. 

“Sometimes when looking at a map I imagine little people in their little armies, traversing the land.” Randvi looks now at Eivor. “And now, staring at these ruins…” She falls silent. “I want a view from the top. Shall we?” And with a quick flash of a grin Randvi is off, leaping into the lake surrounding the tower. 

“Lead on.” Eivor smiles, and follows her in. The two swim to the tower, and as Eivor’s hands find the little cracks and divots in the stones she calls out a warning. “Mind where you put your fingers. These stones are old and weathered.” 

After several minutes of climbing, the two reach a ledge near the top of the tower. They gaze out over the landscape surrounding them. Golden trees and drifting leaves in the wind. The waterfall slowly fades to background noise.

“A stunning view. It reminds me of my early years in Norway. How I used to climb the hills beyond the wood.” Randvi stares out wistfully.

“You have an adventurer's heart.” Eivor looks at Randvi. “I hardly see it behind that table, but now I’ve watched you scale a tower in furs, soaking wet.” 

“I was rowdy in my youth.” She turns to Eivor, a sort of sadness in her eyes. “Hunting, sailing. I was a wildling of the open air.” She pauses, before spitting out, “Before I became this staunch and stoic woman.”

Eivor looks surprised.

“Married off in service of peace between two clans.” Randvi turns away. “A noble and worthy role, but not one I had ever imagined for myself.” 

“You would’ve made a fine wandering warrior.” Eivor steps forward, her heart aching yet again for this woman, trapped behind her table by a husband who did not care for her as a husband should. “A jomsviking, free to come and go as you pleased.”

“I think so too.” Randvi smiles and turns back to Eivor. “We may have sailed together, over the open seas raiding or…” She pauses, a small blush creeping up onto her face. Eivor’s heart jumps. “Travelling.”

“Or faced each other on the field of battle. Without your marriage to Sigurd to secure peace, our clans might still be at war.” 

“True, very true.” At the mention of Sigurd, Randvi’s mood darkens and Eivor curses herself for bringing him up. The two turn back out to face the horizon. “Thank you for today.. Every bit of it has been a dream.” She turns back to Eivor. “And I-” She pauses, seeming to struggle with her words. “I am not keen to wake.”

“Then don’t.” Eivor whispers. “We can stay here, as long as you like.” Her heart is pounding. What is happening? 

“Yes…” Randvi looks into Eivor’s eyes, seeming to debate something with herself. Then it happens. 

Randvi is suddenly against Eivor, her lips pressed against Eivor’s. Eivor responds eagerly, tangling her hand into Randvi’s hair as she kisses back, pouring her heart into her lips. All too soon Randvi pulls back.

“What was that?” Eivor chuckles. 

“O no… I am… I am sorry.” Randvi steps away, horrified. “I shouldn’t have. I got away from myself.” 

“No need to apologize.” Eivor smiles softly, her head still buzzing from the kiss. 

“Sigurd is your brother and I…” Randvi looks at her hands, which had previously been gripping tight to Eivor’s armor, in horror. “I have put you in a very difficult position. The heart does not do politics like the head.” 

“It may be the mead, it may be the air. But there is no need to apologize.” Eivor steps forward and takes Randvi’s shaking hands. 

Randvi laughs, a much different laugh than before, a more bitter laugh. “I am sober enough. But the truth of it is…” She pauses, glancing down at her hands enclosed in Eivor’s. “I have felt this way for some time now. I care for you Eivor.” 

At these words time seems to stop. There are no birds, no waterfall, no golden trees and drifting leaves, just her and Randvi. The words hang in the air as Eivor’s heart beats faster than during even the fiercest of battles. Her eyes search Randvi’s, looking for some hint of a cruel joke, but she knows she will not find one. Randvi has always been kind to her. Their touches have always lingered just too long, their gazes often followed the other, and their hearts beat for each other. 

“That is comforting to hear.” Eivor smiles and presses her forehead to Randvi’s. “I have long felt the same way, but I banished the thought that this would ever happen.” She brings her hand up and cups Randvi’s cheek, brushing away the tears that have started to fall. 

The two kiss again, this time slower. This was nothing caused by the lightness of the mead, or the strain of hiding for so long. This was something Eivor has never experienced. The two seem to melt together, as if every caress and gentle touch was perfectly crafted by the gods for each other. 

The two pull apart and Randvi whispers, “Many times I wished to tell you. Wished to say what was in my heart and what I desired, but duty kept me from it.” 

“Say all you like.” Eivor growls into her ear. 

“Today has meant so much.” Randvi kisses her jaw. “We rode.” She trails kisses down Eivor’s neck. “We drank.” Her hands begin to fiddle with EIvor’s cloak clasp. “We laughed.” The cloak falls to the ground, soon followed by Randvi’s furs. “You showed me your world.” Her cold hands fumble with the small metal clasps holding Eivor’s armor on. “Not in words, but in deeds.” Randvi grazes her teeth along Eivor’s earlobe. “I fear my fingers are too cold to help you undress from your wet clothes, so I shall focus on mine.”

“Deeds are more direct than words.” Eivor whispers before she starts shedding her armor, laying it all carefully to dry. By the time she turns around Randvi has already finished undressing and stands before Eivor dressed only in her chest wraps and simple cloth pants. 

"Well now that is no fun." Randvi rakes her gaze over Eivor's completely nude body. "I was looking forward the taking care of your last layer." Randvi bites her lip. 

"What is not fair is that I have not seen your beauty sooner." Eivor steps forward and presses her lips against the base of Randvi's jaw. Her hands quickly untie her chest wraps and throw them to the ground. Her hands slide down, slowly tracing her fingertips along Randvi’s sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Her lips follow. With each kiss she sinks lower and lower to the ground. 

“Eivor!” Randvi’s hips buck with anticipation as Eivor places a gentle kiss just above the hem of her pants. 

“Patience.” Eivor chuckles. She settles on her knees and slides her fingers into the hem of Randvi’s pants. She slowly tugs them down, placing a kiss just above at each tug. Eivor relishes the small sighs and groans she earns with each kiss. 

Randvi leans back against the pillar behind her, her legs shaking and trembling with anticipation. Eivor's kisses stop as she gently lays Randvi's pants out to dry with the rest of their clothes. Randvi attempts to take a deep breath, but it gets caught in her throat as Eivor nibbles, kisses, and sucks the soft flesh of Randvi's inner thigh. Her husband would not be returning for quite some time, so there would be no one to notice the marks left behind.

Eivor moves slowly, taking her time exploring the woman in front of her. Her fingers dance up, tracing delicately up Randvi's thigh. She runs a finger along the swollen lips between Randvi's legs, and smiles against her thigh as Randvi lets out a desperate moan. Randvi's fingers lace into Eivor's hair, tangling and undoing the tight braid. Her moans become more frequent and desperate as Eivor toys with her, her fingers and lips just barely dancing along her sensitive skin. Her hips buck and Eivor chuckles. 

"I have never seen you so impatient Randvi." Eivor murmurs. She pauses for a moment before sliding her thumb between Randvi's lower lips, seeking the bud to her flower. She rolls the nub between her thumb and finger, gently massaging her. 

"E-Eivor please." Randvi's voice shakes. Her hips grind desperately against Eivor's hand. 

Eivor smiles against her thigh before moving her mouth to Randvi's heat. Her fingers shift and slide slowly inside of Randvi, the action made easy by how soaked Randvi had become, and not from their swim. She swirls her tongue around her swollen clit, moving faster and faster as Randvi moans and calls out her name. 

"Come." She commands. And Randvi, true to her word, obeys. She cries out and slumps forward, her body unable to support itself. Eivor holds her up with her fingers and tongue, extending Randvi's orgasm as long as she can. 

As Randvi's breath slows Eivor slowly pulls out her fingers, making sure to bend and twist them as she goes. Randvi shivers with each movement. The women make direct eye contact and Eivor places her finger delicately on her tongue, she closes her mouth around it and slowly pulls her finger out, savoring the taste of Randvi. Randvi, unable to just watch, lunges forward, and pulls Eivor into a rough kiss. She tastes herself on Eivor's lips. She turns them around and soon it is Eivor with her back to the crumbling pillar. 

Randvi is much quicker, and rougher than Eivor. Her fingers quickly find themselves between Eivor's legs. She slides her fingers deep into Eivor's warmth. Her palm grinds against her pelvis. Eivor moans against Randvi's lips. The two break apart, gasping for air as Randvi's fingers continue their work, sending jolts of pleasure through Eivor's body. Randvi kisses down Eivor’s neck, biting and sucking, unworried of any marks that may be left, the drengr had amassed plenty of lovers in the past, it would be easily explained. 

Randvi's lips surround one of Eivor's pert nipples, her teeth grazing gently, sending a shiver down Eivor's spine. Eivor's head tilts back as she moans. Randvi memorizes the look. Eivor with her mouth open, moaning her name with her eyes squeezed shut and a light sheen of sweat and Randvi's own juices covering her face. Eivor's moans become more erratic. Her fingers dig into Randvi's back and her legs tighten around Randvi's hand. 

"I want to hear you moan my name." Randvi whispers into her ear before she twists her fingers viciously inside Eivor. Eivor moans softly into Randvi's ear, her breath tickling her. Randvi feels the heat inside her building back up, despite having so recently finished. She stills her fingers, and gives a serious look to Eivor. 

"Randvi please…" Eivor whimpers, her body trembling. 

"Let me hear you." Randvi smirks. 

"Randvi." Eivor's struggles to keep her voice even as she whispers her name, again and again. 

"Good." Randvi curls her fingers and twists her palm. She moves her fingers faster than before, rougher than before. And with each movement Eivor grinds back with just as much roughness. 

"Randvi~" Eivor moans out as her body spasms and she slumps against her. Randvi holds her finger in Eivor's throbbing heat before as slowly as possible she pulls them out. The two press their foreheads together, both covered in sweat and each other. They share a soft kiss, both completely content. 


End file.
